Miraak's Second Hand
by DevilsBountyHunter1
Summary: A Dragon Priest chooses to live a different life and become an adventurer. Set in the late Merethic era, around the time when Miraak became the first Dragonborn. In the same universe as Making of a Legend and focusing on Alek'sir. Rated M for language and gore.
1. Chapter 1

The Priest

Three days had passed since Miraak had proposed his mad idea. Alek'sir didn't know if he could do any more rituals, but he also didn't think that rebelling would be a good idea either. Perhaps there was another option. Nobody had to know who wore the mask. It wasn't like he was an important priest anyway. Maybe elder Freiden…

Alek'sir and Miraak were Dragon Priests, which was a high honor in this society. Nobody else could speak to the dragon overlords, let alone even utter any of the names of the dragons. Even the words that meant dragon were illegal to utter. Miraak had been so dedicated to his job as a priest that he'd changed his name to match the mask that the dragons had granted him. Alek'sir was not nearly as, well, fanatical as Miraak could be. He'd chosen instead to never even reveal who he was under the mask. Nobody knew but him. Besides, the mask that he'd been given was called Dukaan, which meant dishonor in the dragon language. Who wanted to be named "Dishonor"?

Today was once more ritual for Alek'sir. As he stepped to the center of the platform and stood at the altar, he could sense trouble on its way. Usually, there would be whispers from the younger members of the congregation echoing from the massive stone columns that ran in rows through the room. The walls, which were made of large slabs of granite held together by mortar made with obsidian, usually glowed orange with the power of the dragon that ruled their city, but today the glow was faint, verging on nonexistent. Alek'sir had even had to light a few more lanterns than normal to account for the difference. He opened his mouth to speak, and the massive oak doors at the back of the room blew open.

Through what was left of the doors, a redguard man in a leather harness stepped into the room. Under the harness, his tunic clung to his bulging muscles. A chain was wrapped around each of his forearms, connecting behind his back, and he swung each end of it with deadly power. Electricity arced from each end of the chain, making burn marks wherever it connected with the floor. Rage emanated from him in waves, bringing the meek around him to their knees. His eyes were lit with a wild power. Raising his hand to point at Alek'sir, he screamed, "WHERE ARE THE DRAGONS? WHY DO THEY RULE US? WHY DO YOU MEEK LITTLE KITTENS MEW AND SUBMIT TO THEIR TYRANNY? LET THEM COME DOWN AND SPEAK TO US AS EQUALS! LET THEM COME DOWN AND HEAR WHAT WE HAVE TO SAY!"

Alek'sir sighed audibly. He knew this man; he was the only other redguard in the town, making him stand out in the all-white city of nords. He hated having to do what he would have to do now. The dragons would accept no rebellion, no matter how small.

Raising his hand, Alek'sir summoned a storm of ice to attack the man. Angrily, the man charged through the icy blast and began working his chain into a rhythm, each end swingin while the other was winding up to swing again. Panicking, Alek'sir threw up a wall of ice and then drew his dagger from his belt. Swiftly flying behind the man who now stood beating at the wall with his chains, Alek'sir readied himself for his attack. Grasping the man by the neck, he drove his dagger into the man's back, just missing his heart. The chains swung no more as his arms dropped to his sides. Alek'sir leaned in next to the man's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry my friend. You are right, but I cannot show weakness."

Having said that, he discreetly withdrew the dart that he had inserted into the man's neck, and cast telekinesis. Turning around, he slammed the now animated body to the ground, face first. Throwing a ghost sound, he made it seem as though the man had groaned. Igniting his hand, Alek'sir then plunged his flaming fist into the man's back and yanked his still "beating" heart from his body. Purple magic swirled from his body, and the black soul gem on Alek'sir's belt sucked the soul from the now limp body.

The congregation was silent as they filed past the dragon statue at the front of the room. The elders took the body out to the slab of stone behind the temple, and proceeded to incinerate it. This was the fifth zealot this year that he'd had to kill.

As the people left the temple, Alek'sir subtly summoned elder Frieden to his quarters. When they were alone, Alek'sir motioned for him to sit down. Placing his dagger on the desk between them, he said, "I can no longer wear the mask Dukaan. You have been a very loyal servant of our dragon masters, and I would like to pass the mask to you. None know who I am, nor the fact that I wear the mask, so it would seem to others that nothing had changed. Would you accept this honor?"

Frieden's eyes lit up. "Of course my Lord, I would be happy to carry on your work. If I may ask, why do you seek to pass on this honor?"

"I cannot continue to wear the mask for two reasons." Alek'sir replied. "First, I cannot continue to kill for overlords who do not deem it necessary to actually care for those who so devoutly worship them. Second, I wish to have an adventure, which I cannot do while serving as your priest."

Frieden and Alek'sir spoke for hours on the duties of priesthood and the responsibilities thereof. When their conversation had ended, Alek'sir stood and wrapped his hand around the blade of his dragon priest dagger. Raising it above Frieden's head, he uttered the words that had once been uttered above his head. The power that had once coursed through Alek'sir from his mask diminished greatly. Before, he had unlimited amounts of magical power, and was able to call the most draining of spells forth with no difficulty or repercussion. Now, the limits of his power were almost tangible. Even with the bonus that the wearing of the mask still gave him, he knew it was not his anymore, and it knew it as well. Placing the knife in Frieden's outstretched hand, he turned away from the new priest. On the table behind him, a set of steel plate armor lay sprawled. Gathering it, he stepped into his latrine and changed from his priestly robes and mask to the armor. His face was fully covered, as was the rest of his skin. None would know who he was beneath the armor, and none needed to. Stepping back out, he placed the folded articles of clothing in Frieden's other hand. Alek'sir then held the mask in both hands, and commanded that Frieden kneel. Reverently, he placed the mask on the newly appointed priest's face. They then grasped each other's forearm and embraced each other before Alek'sir headed for Miraak's temple. It was time something changed.


	2. Brothers Reunion

Brothers Reunion

The speech that Miraak had given had been a good one, even if it did seem to stray from the path that the dragons had set for their followers. He'd touched too much on the weaknesses of the dragons; no priest should ever reveal any weakness in their gods. The dragons were not to be questioned, and yet, his followers seemed to accept his teachings.

Everyone had left the temple, and Miraak had shut the front doors when he noticed Alek'sir standing in front of the altar, his arms crossed across his chest. Miraak raised his voice and yelled, "Who are you to stand within this temple when the doors are closed? Do you have any idea what happens behind these doors? Explain yourself, and we shall see if you escape your death!"

Alek'sir slowly removed his helmet, being careful to not provoke the angry dragon priest before him. When he looked up, Miraak had lowered his hands, and twirled his dagger into his hand. Alek'sir raised his hands in a surrendering motion, and said, "Remember me my friend? We used to practice with swords after our parents thought we'd gone to sleep. I fell on a stick and drove it into my left wrist. I still have the scar." He pulled his gauntlet off and showed Miraak the scar that ran up his wrist. "It is me, Alek'sir."

Miraak scanned him, obviously looking for something. "Where is the mask Dukaan? You were sworn to wear it until you die! What have you done?"

Alek'sir adjusted himself and replied, "I have passed the mask Dukaan on to another more worthy of the evil that it forces its wearer to become. The radicals have begun invading my temple more and more often, and I fear that they are not wrong. A revolution is coming, I could no longer bear the responsibility for the actions that the wearing of the mask required, so I found another who could bear the burden more fully."

Miraak's tone darkened, and he replied, "I am sure you know the consequences for such an action. One before you tried this, but was betrayed by his replacement, and was then taken to the dragons. They slowed time for his perception, and spent an hour dissecting him, which in his perception was very close to a day's worth of time. I cannot say that I have not felt the sting of my actions, but I have chosen another way. I understand your position, and I will not tell any of your betrayal, so long as you are here to assist me in the quest of which I wrote you, for you have evidence of my betrayal in that request itself. Do we have an accord?"

Alek'sir nodded, and the two retired to Miraak's private quarters to plan the morning's journey. To Alek'sir's surprise, there were already two packs loaded with everything from bread to bedding rolls. He'd even laid a coil of rope next to each pack, and there were two canteens tied to each pack; one was labeled "Water", and the other read "Wine". Alek'sir snickered.

Next to the packs, a large map of Solstheim, which was a province of Skyrim, was spread across the table. There was a village on the border of the rest of Skyrim that Miraak had marked with a large "X". Looking at Miraak, he asked, "What's so special about this village?"

Miraak spread his hands to indicate all the papers and scrolls around him and then replied, "All the research that I have done has led me to believe that this village is going to be attacked by a daedric prince within the next week." Alek'sir raised an eyebrow, and Miraak explained, "The prince's name is Hermaeus Mora. He is the daedric prince of knowledge, and I believe that he can teach me to overcome the dragons so we can control them."

Alek'sir sat down on the couch in the corner and nodded. "Alright," He said, "I have one caveat for this quest. That is, we must do it for the people. I know the draw of power can cause some to seek it only for themselves, but we must be a cut above the masses. We must do it only for the good of others."

Miraak gruffly mumbled something under his breath, but finally accepted. They would be off in the morning.

The early morning mist hadn't even begun to float away when the two newfound adventurers set out on their journey. Alek'sir had been trying out new forms of magic lately, and decided to try some out as they walked. Digging down into his own soul, he focused on the animalistic side of himself. After struggling for a while, he took his helmet off and strapped it to his pack. Drawing upon the power he held within, he pulled that portion of his soul into his own plane of existence, giving it form. In his hand, a ghostly wolf pup took shape, though it fit in the palm of his hand. Even though it was ethereal, it had form, and had unbelievably soft fur. A smile crept across his face, and he carried the small part of his soul as he walked.

Through all this, Alek'sir had kept his magical manifestation hidden from Miraak by carrying it opposite his body from the man. As they approached the village, Miraak reached out and grabbed Alek'sir by the arm, causing the pup to fly forward. Alek'sir started to speak, but Miraak clamped his hand over Alek'sir's mouth before any sounds could escape it. The pup wandered forward, partially guided by Alek'sir's curiosity. As it stumbled forward, it pulled on a tripwire.

Alek'sir's heart jumped as he watched the wire snap. The pup stumbled into a nearby rock, and a log with spikes tied to it swung over its head with deadly speed. Had the pup been full grown, it would have surely been impaled by the swinging trap.

Miraak released his grip on Alek'sir's mouth and said, "The Skaal hunt in the areas around their villages. Often, that includes traps, though they always watch any active ones so they can perform the final rites for anything that is killed."

As if on cue, a hunter who was covered in furs leapt from the nearby bushes. "My friends!" she exclaimed, "I apologize for the scare. I've been hunting bear, and they have been proving difficult to track. Oh, sorry, I forget my manners. My name is Ombra. Pleased to meet… you."

Alek'sir let his familiar dissipate, and bowed politely. "My name is Alek'sir, and my friend here is Miraak. We come in peace, seeking to speak with your village elders. Could you perhaps lead us to the village?"

Ombra nodded quickly, and the small party set off through the wintery forest. Along the way, she disabled three traps, all deadly in design. Trudging through the snow in steel armor is never a good idea, no matter how many layers of fur and socks you put around and inside them, and Alek'sir was learning this quickly. He was just beginning to lose feeling in his toes when they reached the top of the hill that overlooked the village.

Rough log cabins sat in a circle around a monument, which according to Alek'sir's limited knowledge of Skaal religion, probably represented the All-maker. Smoke curled from a dozen chimneys, and fur-bundled villagers scurried about, each performing their specific tasks. Alek'sir would welcome the warmth.


	3. War with a Demon

War with a Demon

The village elders seemed to have their minds elsewhere when Alek'sir and Miraak introduced themselves. Of course, who could blame them? A demon had recently been sighted nearby, and the dragon priests had done nothing about it. The very existence of the Skaal was a slap in the face of the dragon priests, as they had essentially escaped the rule of the priests, to live on their own, worshipping the dragons and the All-maker directly. As soon as Alek'sir and Miraak had been introduced to all the elders, Miraak was given the floor.

Miraak spoke clearly, and with enough volume that all could hear him well as he said, "We would like you to know that, first and foremost, we are not here on behalf of the dragons. This is more of a personal matter for us."

One of the elders spoke up, a small snicker in his voice, "Since when do dragon priests, especially ones as high ranking of you, do anything of their own accord? For that matter, why would we care?"

Miraak cleared his throat and pulled his hood down. While he removed his mask, he began speaking once again, "Just as a dragon priest never removes his mask, the dragons rule the priest's lives. I have removed my mask, and in doing this, I hope to show you that I am not acting on the dragons' behalf. We are here on a mission of our own. Will you hear our plan?" After a bit, all the elders nodded, and Miraak continued, "We seek to escape the rule of the dragons. We believe that the demon who attacked nearby has knowledge that will help us bring an end to their tyranny. We know that the demon seeks to know everything that there is to know, and we have knowledge that nobody else will be able tell him. We would like to trap him, using magic, but do not know anything about him, other than his thirst for knowledge. Therefore, this is our proposal: You teach us what you know of the demon and how to combat him, and we will end the tyranny of the dragons."

The elder responded, this time more serious, "You forget, we have nothing against the dragons. We simply wish to worship them without your… interference. While we normally would have no reason to side with you, this demon is indeed a problem. With your help, I believe we could restrain him." Miraak smiled slyly, and Alek'sir went to find the village's leading authorities on the demon.

Several hours passed, and while Alek'sir conferred with the men who knew the most about the demon, Miraak, who had remounted his mask, strode about the village giving small treats to the children. Most of the parents frowned at him for doing this, but Miraak didn't appear to care. Alek'sir decided he'd have to talk to him about it later.

The demon had been attacking at sunset every other day, stealing books, smashing anything it could get its tentacles near, and occasionally sucking the life out of anyone who got too close. Now, as the sun began to drop on the horizon, tensions in the village seemed to run high. Mothers scurried about, trying to get their children inside before the demon returned. Men readied their weapons, running sharpening stones over the blades one last time and counting the arrows in their quivers.

Suddenly, the forest behind the village exploded, broken trees flying, as Hermaeus Mora burst into existence. Alek'sir began sprinting toward the source of the commotion, his heavy armor clanking as he tore across the village. When he rounded the last corner, he stopped dead in his tracks. Before him, a grotesque scene was spread across the landscape. A few unlucky warriors had been struck by the flying timber, and were now lying beneath the implements of their demise. A mass of olive-green tentacles reached for their environment, trying to grasp someone and wrap them in a slimy embrace. Oil seemed to ooze from the center of the mass, covering everything and dripping from every tentacle. Dozens of eyes were interspersed among the writhing arms, all blinking slowly, as though they were in no hurry to see.

A warrior got too close, and the tentacles wrapped around her body, squeezing the life from her. Her eyes bulged from the pressure being exerted on her body, and from her mouth, a stream of magical energy seemed to flow. Unlike souls, which were purple, this stream seemed to be an oily green, much like the color of the demon. Blood began draining from her eyes, nose, and mouth, and her whole body shook before he dropped her to the ground, her broken body drained of life.

Miraak shook his head and charged toward the demon, raising his hands in front of himself. His hands began to glow, and an orb of energy formed around the demon. Miraak began shrinking the sphere, squeezing the demon in the process. Alek'sir, seeing Miraak's plan, added his own energy to the process, though Miraak didn't seem to notice. Before long, the demon was a small ball of tentacles and eyes trapped inside a sphere that was much too small for it.

The village elders started to move toward the sphere, but Miraak held out his hand and said, "You may not slay him, for I have need of him." The elders shook their heads, but retreated. Then, Miraak turned to the demon and said, "I, Miraak, dragon priest of Akatosh, command you to speak to me."

The demon turned its oily eyes toward the man in the mask and said, "Well, I'm speaking to you. What do you want of me?"

Miraak stared at the mass of oily green slime for a second, and then replied, "I seek the power to defeat the dragons in combat. You will give me the power, or I shall crush you like so many ants."

Hermaeus Mora sighed and rolled his eyes before responding, "Hey, there's no need to speak in such a high and mighty way. Relax man, I'll help you out. I'm impressed by your abilities, and these dragons are becoming a problem for me anyway. I'd like to be able to rule Tamriel myself, and they are in the way. So, as a reward for so valiantly defending this village from, well, me, I will give you dragon blood. You will be able to use shouts, much as the dragons do, and when you kill a dragon, you will be able to kill it permanently. You will suck its soul from its body and use it to make yourself more powerful. In return, I only want you to be my champion, fighting in my name. Deal?" Miraak had obviously glazed over the "Champion" part, and was power hungry, because he accepted right away. Alek'sir groaned at his companion's lack of foresight, and simply stood and watched as Hermaeus said, "Upon the caster which contained me, I bestow the gift of dragon's blood. In return, Miraak, priest of dragons, shall serve as my champion until the day of his death."

Miraak raised his hand and released the binding that held the demon as golden lines of power surrounded the dragon priest. "Leave this place in peace." Miraak commanded the demon, and he did. Hermaeus Mora would not be seen in that village until the days of the last Dragonborn.

Unbeknownst to everyone around him, Alek'sir had also been given dragon blood. His assistance with the capturing of the demon had accidentally gained him the power to slay dragons. He almost thought he'd gotten away with it when a voice echoed inside his head, giving him an almost unbearable headache. "Cleverly done young man, you tricked the demon of all knowledge. Unfortunately, I see more than my book obsessed kin. I saw you steal the blessing, thinking you would get away with it. I must say, I admire your guts. If you wish to gain more power, visit me at the inn in Winterhold. I agree with what you are doing, and I want to help. Just ask for Mehrunes Dagon."

* * *

Author's note: Sorry for the massive delay on this chapter. Since I finished my other story, I just haven't had the inspiration or the drive to write more. I basically lived in Skyrim for my teenage years, so it's a much more natural writing environment for me than the age of dragons and dragon priests. I'll try to keep writing this story more regularly, but I can make no promises. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!


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